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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341870">an old man, filled with regret (waiting to nap alone)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibouu/pseuds/hibouu'>hibouu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ye Olde Arthur 'Verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Inception (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Friendship, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibouu/pseuds/hibouu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Security's going to run you down hard, old man," Eames says with a smile. Asshole.</p><p>Arthur flashes his dentures. "And I will lead them on a merry chase."</p><p>Vignettes from an AU where everything is the same except Arthur is an old man.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ariadne &amp; Arthur (Inception), Arthur &amp; Dom Cobb, Arthur &amp; Eames (Inception), Arthur &amp; Yusuf (Inception)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ye Olde Arthur 'Verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>an old man, filled with regret (waiting to nap alone)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>eames shows up a lot bc i love him lol</p><p>major credit to my pal for workshopping this w me.. it started as a joke n became whatever this is</p><p>i might come back and edit this later for errors and weird writing but for now enjoy</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What's the most resilient parasite?" </p><p>Arthur slowly tunes in to Cobb's signature spiel and tries not to sigh too loud. </p><p>"A bacteria? A virus?" ...And cue the dramatic gesturing with the wine glass - there it is. The man is so predictable. Arthur makes a note to remind Cobb that he doesn't really have a leg to stand on in debates regarding Arthur's strict "old man routine." So what if he eats dinner at 4pm every day for the early bird special? At least he doesn't use the same speech on three marks in a row. </p><p>Cobb smiles as he says, "An intestinal worm?" and Arthur decides that he'd really rather be savoring his nap on the train than having to stay awake (in a manner of speaking) for this extraction right now. He takes the wheel. "What Mr. Cobb is trying to say-" but the younger men at the table ignore him, ploughing forward with their conversation. It's stupid anyway, Saito clearly sees right through Cobb's deception.</p><p>Ah, youth. Arthur pulls a plate of food toward him and reaches for his dentures.</p><p>+++</p><p>Eames gives Cobb a look over his drink. "Arthur? You're still working with that stick in the mud?"</p><p>"He's good at what he does."</p><p>"Oh, he's the best. Though I'm fairly sure he only has around three teeth left."</p><p>+++</p><p>Arthur doesn't know how he, the resident <em>senior citizen</em>, became the guinea pig for Yusuf's sedative tests, but as he falls from his chair and his eyes fly open to spot the wicked grin of a mad scientist, one thing becomes clear. It's time to take up his insurance company on that offer they called him about last month. </p><p>Eames' laughter from somewhere behind him evokes thoughts of vehicular manslaughter.</p><p>+++</p><p>Before everyone drifts off to the dulcet tones of the PASIV's rhythmic wheezing, Arthur feels a tell-tale twinge in his joints. </p><p>"It's going to rain," he announces. "I can feel it in my knees."</p><p>Yusuf glances out the plane window. "It's a perfectly sunny day."</p><p>Arthur shrugs. His knees have never been wrong. And when a rain-soaked Yusuf climbs  into the car just a minute later, Arthur gives them a satisfied pat.</p><p>+++</p><p>Cobb and Arthur drag Fischer and Eames-as-Browning to the van. Well, Cobb does the real dragging. Arthur gets away with a light grip on Eames' arm and lets the man's penchant for theatre do the rest, watching him struggle and grunt like he's not on a casual warehouse stroll with his geriatric associate. Arthur gives Eames a light push, and he lunges, scrabbling into the van next to Fischer.</p><p>"We're worth more to you alive!" Fischer pants through the bag. "You hear me?" </p><p>He's really frightened, the poor kid. Arthur wonders, briefly, if he's been anything like Maurice to his own children, and then decides to stop thinking about it. Instead he focuses on positioning the dropper of sedative over the correct face-obscuring sack. Between his current lack of proper glasses thanks to Fischer's gun-slinging projections and the perpetual tremor in his right hand, it's delicate work, so seeing Eames emerge, as intended, from the non-drugged bag is a relief.</p><p>"That boy's relationship with his father is even worse than we imagined," Eames says upon hopping out of the van. </p><p>Arthur shuffles away from Fischer and uses Eames' shoulder to stabilize his own exit. "This helps us how?"</p><p>"The stronger the issues, the more powerful the catharsis," Cobb says. He hands Arthur a sniper rifle and runs off somewhere with Yusuf. </p><p>He hands <em>Arthur</em> a sniper rifle. </p><p>What a day.</p><p>"But how are we going to reconcile them if they're so estranged?"</p><p>Eames slides the door shut. "I'm working on that, aren't I."</p><p>"Well work faster," Arthur replies, slowly and with a stilted yawn. It's really time for a nap, right about now. He spots blurry movement out the window and grows more alert, but not quite alert enough to wield the instrument of mild discomfort in his hands. He thinks for a moment. "The projections are closing in quick. We need to break out of here before we're totally boxed in."</p><p>Eames either doesn't take the hint or chooses to ignore it, but he runs off elsewhere after a quick nod, instead of taking the sniper rifle from the decrepit man in front of him and using his youthful strength to deal with this shit. Instead, he leaves Arthur high and dry. And holding a weapon that grows heavier by the second. </p><p>Plan B, then. </p><p>Making sure he's planted firmly within Eames' line of sight, Arthur aims the rifle out of the window with exaggerated strain. He fires off a few ineffectual rounds in the general direction of what he thinks is a rival sniper, but could very well be a large pigeon at this point. He hears footsteps and ramps up the senior act just a tad more.</p><p>"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling," says Eames from behind him, aiming a grenade launcher out the window.</p><p>Arthur chuckles and a grinch-like smile crosses his wrinkled face. "Oh, I dream exactly as big as I want to," he says, letting his rifle fall to the floor and giving Eames' shoulder a pat. Maybe he can catch a little extra meta-shut-eye in the back of the van before they take off. </p><p>Eames rolls his eyes and adjusts his aim.</p><p>+++</p><p>Ariadne glances around the hotel lobby, a crease developing between her eyebrows. Fischer's projections are paying her and Arthur an uncomfortable amount of attention. "What's happening?"</p><p>Arthur looks away from one projection in a suit he wishes he were still young enough to pull off. If nothing else he can certainly respect Fischer's taste in clothing. </p><p>"Arthur?" </p><p>Ah, right.</p><p>"Cobb is drawing Fischer's attention to the strangeness of the dream," Arthur explains. "That's making his subconscious look for the dreamer. For me."</p><p>This is the part where they come up with some kind of distraction to buy time, but the "quick, give me a kiss" gambit isn't exactly appropriate. Oh, well. It served him well in his day.</p><p>"We should go," he says instead, and Ariadne offers him her arm.  She really does remind him of his daughter sometimes; he buries the thought with a sad little smile.</p><p>+++</p><p>Arthur deftly slips the PASIV needle into Eames' wrist and prepares to push the button on the machine. He always finds his hands to be steadier in his own dreams (and it helps that this level graciously returned his glasses).</p><p>"Security's going to run you down hard, old man," Eames says with a smile. Asshole.</p><p>Arthur flashes his dentures. "And I will lead them on a merry chase."</p><p>"Chase? With <em>your</em> knees? Just be sure to shuffle back here before the kick."</p><p>"Go to sleep, Mr. Eames."</p><p>And if Arthur, in all his wisdom and maturity, gives the smartass a swift kick in the shin before sleep claims him... well, no one needs to know. He walks - he does <em>not</em> shuffle - into the corridor, glock in hand. Far preferable to a goddamn sniper rifle.</p><p>He barely makes it to the elevators before security heads him off. And security barely makes it to him before the floor starts becoming the wall. </p><p>Yusuf.</p><p>Arthur tousles with goons one and two briefly, but the gun does most of the work. Goon three, however, fits into his suit a little more snugly around the biceps, and makes short work of pushing the old man against a wall and relieving him of his gun.</p><p>Then, a shift in gravity makes short work of plunging both of them into an empty hotel room, and they hit the back wall with a sickening, but immensely satisfying crack. That'll be a vertebra.</p><p>Soon, the man has Arthur in a headlock against the ceiling. Or floor. It's hard to keep track in this funhouse ride of a hotel. Arthur's glock has slid across whatever flat plane they're on at the moment, so he flails for the projection's gun, currently held in an unfortunate position near both of their necks.</p><p>"You know," Arthur rasps, "I'd usually be thrown into a terribly grouchy mood by something like this." He finally wrangles the gun from the projection's grasp and digs it under the poor bastard's ribs. "Lucky for you, I'm too happy about what this zero gravity deal is doing for my spine." </p><p>+++</p><p>"He won't wake up. Why won't he wake up?" Yusuf frets, slapping Arthur harder than strictly necessary. The whole team has gathered around Arthur's seat sporting identical worried expressions. Well, Cobb's is especially squinty, but that's just Cobb. Robert Fischer gives them a brief, confused glance and heads to the lavatory for some peace.</p><p>"Hasn't the sedative worn off by now?" Eames says. "I swear I saw him open his eyes for a second..."</p><p>Arthur snuffles a bit in his sleep, twitching. Then he begins to snore.</p><p>"Oh my god, guys..." Ariadne says, barely managing to suppress a giggle. "He's just fallen asleep again. No sedative required." </p><p>Yusuf buries his face in his hands.</p><p>+++</p><p>Arthur watches his luggage slide past on the carousel. It's not a huge bag, but lifting it is not exactly kind to his joints either.</p><p>He turns to Eames, who's leaning against a luggage cart a few yards away. "Young man," he calls, ramping up the quavering, ancient timbre of his voice. He barely has to fake it, that's how tired he is. And after a ten hour snooze, to boot. "Would you mind helping a poor old geezer with his bag?"</p><p>Eames notes the plethora of capable people who are currently standing much closer to Arthur, and lets out a sigh. "Which one?" he asks.</p>
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